


Marriage of Convenience

by mm8



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Advent Challenge 2013, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bars and Pubs, Community: adventchallenge, Drunkenness, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Secret Identity, Snowball Fight, week of cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori is angry and confused when he unexpected finds out that he's getting married tomorrow morning to a Dwarf he's never met and whose name he doesn't know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marriage of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! We're making some progress! 3 down, four to go! (and if you happen to read these in their intended order later that statement was probably confusing...)
> 
> Anyway, my loves! The Week of Cliches is something the wonderful people at fyeahorwal.tumblr.com dreamed up. 7 days of 7 tropes, 7 fics of Dwalin/Ori! 
> 
> 1: Soulmates/Soulmarks  
> 2: Arranged marriage  
> 3: Love obstructing brothers  
> 4: Omegaverse  
> 5: Bodyguard crush  
> 6: Partner in danger  
> 7: Free-for-all

Ori spluttered and dropped his notebook. He hastily gathered his composure and straightened his back, hoping that his face was neutral. "C-could you repeat that?"

Dori busied himself dusting the mantle and picking up and setting down his pipe, not daring to look his brother in the eyes. "There's nothing more to say. You're getting married tomorrow."

"What do you mean? I-I think I'd know if I was getting married."

"It was an arranged marriage our parents set it up when you were a baby."

Ori threw up his hands. "Why didn't you ever mention this before?"

"I was a dwarfling!" His brother retorted. "I didn't remember at all until the invitation and contract came in the mail today." Dori gestured to the table with the feather duster he was holding.

The ginger rushed toward the table and for an hour he read through the document twice. There was lots of legal lingo that Ori wasn't accustomed to reading. The odd thing about the contract however, was that nobody's names were written. To paraphrase, _Party A saved Party B's life, the two parties took a blood oath that their two youngest sons would wed five years after Party A's son came of age._

Afterwards, disgruntled, he looked up at Dori, who was sitting across from him sipping tea. "But… this doesn't say anything. Who am I marrying?"

The older dwarf shrugged. "I don't know. Or if I did, I don't remember. Only ones who would know were mother and father." Dori grimaced. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."

"Doesn't it say on the invitation?" Ori rustled through the papers and at the bottom of the stack found a thick weighted paper that requested the attendance of Ori Rison to be wed tomorrow and gave the time and place. Ori flipped the invitation front to back several times to see if he had missed something. "Why doesn't it even say who I am marrying on the invitation? This is so ridiculous!" Ori gasped and slammed his hands down on the table. "The contract! It must have a loophole! I could get out of this!"

"No," Dori said ever-so-simply. "I went over the contract and Nori triple checked it. That contract is ironclad. You're getting married to a strange dwarf," the words sounded bitter. "Tomorrow."

Ori shook his head in disbelief. "No, no." He repeated over and over to himself. Gathering up his notebook from the floor, Ori stomped toward the front door. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Dori demanded, standing as well and approaching Ori.

"Out! Away! Maybe I'll leave the Blue Mountains! I'm certainly not getting married in the morning!" He didn't hear his older sibling's reply because he slammed the door in Dori's face.

 

Three drinks in and Ori was starting to get a little tipsy. He wondered if his drawings were getting any worse off as he drank more. Ori wasn't too sure of what he'd been drawing either. The scribe had been staring at something or someone for a while but his eyes were getting so sleepy and unclear. He'd have to see in the morning.

Morning.

Ori groaned and let his head fall onto the bar. In the morning he'd wouldn't be Ori Rison anymore. He'd be married to some hideous dwarf who didn't love him in return; they would probably beat him or secretly be a murderer. Maybe he should run away. Start over somewhere else like Imladris where other dwarves would never think to look for him. He'd offer the elves his copying services; Ori had often heard that their library was expansive and thorough. But he could never do that. Ori could never abandon Dori, who would worry himself sick. Ori could imagine Nori's face when Dori told him their little brother had run away. Nori would spend the rest of his days travelling Middle Earth trying to bring Ori back home.

He was stuck. Tomorrow he'd get married and be in hell until he died.

Ori scrubbed his face to sober himself up. One more drink wouldn't hurt him, right? The contract or the invitation didn't say a word about needing to be completely lucid when he tied the knot. The scribe raised his hand to signal the bartender but was startled when someone grasped his wrist and forced it down.

"Oi, what are you—" Ori's jaw dropped. Whoever it was holding his wrist was the most beautiful dwarf he'd ever seen. There was a roughest about him, his large black beard and shaven head with intricate tattoos. Ori thought he'd liked to touch the tattoos, trace the designs with his fingers to feel their texture and copy them down in his journal to try and capture the dwarf's ink to perfection. But the dwarf's eyes; they were deep and sorrowful. 

"I think you might have had enough, lad." The dwarf took the seat beside Ori, banging his fist on the countertop. "Bombur! Two waters and two bowls of your best stew!" 

The large ginger dwarf wiping off the counter nodded at them. He quickly filled two pewter mugs with water and set them down in front of Ori and the mystery dwarf. "Stew should be out in a few minutes," Bombur said and gave them a wink. 

The dwarf at Ori's side huffed and rolled his eyes at Bombur's action. "I take it you had a bad day, laddie." 

Ori nodded glumly. "Didn't quite go as I planned."

"Neither did mine." The dwarf's voice was rough and deep. He inhaled deeply. "So are ye an artist?"

Ori was a little surprised. "Huh?" He glanced down at his notebook to see his awful sketch that was in progress. "Oh, oh no. Not really. More of an apprentice scribe. Drawing is just a hobby."

"It's very good." The brawny dwarf commented before he took a drink from his mug. "It'll look better once it's done."

The dwarf surprised Ori once again. His drawing? Good? _Very_ good? His sketch that'd he'd been doodling while intoxicated. This gorgeous dwarf must be putting him on. He couldn't help but blush. "You think so?"

"Aye," the dwarf nodded. 

Silence stretched on. Ori tapped his quill against his journal while the older dwarf took occasional sips from his mug. The scribe couldn't help but sneak a couple glances at his companion. The dwarf was just so attractive! And he'd even complimented his art. His _shitty_ art! Ori suppressed a giggle when he caught the dwarf sizing him up. Not sizing him up like for a fight but like he was _interested_. 

"Dwalin—"

"Ori—"

This time the scribe giggled aloud and soon Dwalin joined in with his own hearty laugh. The older dwarf grabbed hold of the back of Ori's neck and pulled him closer until their foreheads lightly touched. Ori should have felt awkward or offended that this dwarf he barely knew was giving him a dwarven kiss, especially when the scribe was supposed to be married to a stranger in the morning. But this felt so right, perfect. _Mahal_ , if one of them moved forward slightly…

"Here you are lads. Oh!" 

Dwalin and Ori jumped back from each other, both blushing furiously. 

"Sorry about that," Bombur held up a hand. "Carry on."

The two ate in silence, the stew warming their bellies. Ori smiled to himself when Mister Dwalin placed his hand on his thigh and squeezed. He couldn't help but cover Dwalin's hand and intertwine their fingers.

Dwalin paid for everything, including Ori's tab. They walked out of the pub hand-in-hand and into the cold night.

Ori laughed as he gazed up at the sky. "It's snowing. Really snowing." He stuck his tongue out a tongue out a caught a few snowflakes. He took a step, giggling when he heard the crunch of snow against his boot. Embarrassingly, he squealed when he was roughly hit by a snow ball. Ori scanned the area to see what child threw it, but laughed when he discovered that Dwalin was the culprit.  
Ori scooped up a handful of snow, aimed and bulls eye! Hit Dwalin's chest! They laughed and played like dwaflings, skirting around corners to hide. Mister Dwalin even made a makeshift snow fort. 

Eventually, they found themselves a few streets away from the tavern, rolling in the fluffy wet snow. Ori was on top, straddling Dwalin's hips, his hands sprayed out on the dwarf's broad chest. Dwalin breathed in the scribe's scent, ink and earth, and playfully nipped at his earlobe. When Ori moaned, Dwalin unexpectedly pulled away. 

"We should stop," Mister Dwalin gulped. Ori nodded and stood up, holding out his hand to help the dwarf up, which Dwalin gladly took. "I'll walk you home, yeah."

Ori waited until they were a couple blocks from the home to stop Dwalin. "This is fine. My brother would probably freak out if he saw you."

Dwalin raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. 

The scribe rocked on his heels and stared up at the beautiful dwarf. "Will I ever see you again?"

Mister Dwalin bent down and pressed his forehead against Ori's. "I hope so, lad." He turned and walked away, without glancing back once.

It was a lonely way back to his home. 

 

"You look beautiful, brother," Dori sniffled as he fussed with the shawl around Ori's shoulders for the eleventh time. 

Ori grimaced, "Thank you." He turned his attention to the window. The snow was falling rather heavily now, erasing the trail of fun Ori had on his last night as a bachelor.

There was a light knock on the door and a woman with salt and pepper hair peak her head through the door. "It's time," she said and flitted away. 

Dori embraced Ori and pushed open the large ornate doors to the future.

Ori was surprised to see King Thorin standing to officiate. Of course as king Thorin had it in his power to officiate weddings but Ori had never heard of a time when the king pulled rank. Master Balin was even there, his eyes twinkling and smile mischievous. 

But what topped all of that was who was standing in the groom's position. 

Mister Dwalin. 

He looked equally as shocked as Ori did.

Every step Ori took toward his husband-to-be, the feeling of lead is in stomach disappeared. A smile grew on his face. 

As he took the final step on the pedestal he turned his face to the sky and silently thanked his father.

King Thorin Oakenshield requested that Dwalin and Ori hold hands to begin the ceremony. 

Ori looked into Dwalin's steely eyes and knew everything would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> * Kudos are amazing and I will never stop asking for them, but getting comments, actual feedback from readers means so much. Taking five seconds out of your time can really make my day.
>   
> 
> * You can follow me on [tumblr](http://mm8fic.tumblr.com/).
>   
> 


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